


Change your shape, change your destiny

by dutchbuffy



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Bodyswap, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 21:51:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11135400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchbuffy/pseuds/dutchbuffy
Summary: A wacky adventure comprising lots of body changing, gratuitous snark and an old villain returning to Sunnydale.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place just before the Season 5 opener.

Willow woke up to being smothered by a huge demon. It was lying on top of her, and she could hardly breathe. She tried to push it off, but only succeeded in flapping her arms uselessly around. She must be suffering from lack of oxygen, because her arms felt heavy and resistant. She tried to yell for help, and a surprisingly strong, reverberating sound came out of her mouth. This shocked her awake further, and she discovered she wasn’t even in her own room, so there was no point shouting for help. Tara wouldn’t hear.

She took a deep breath, which seemed to cause the demon lying on top of her to swell, and tried a last desperate push. All that happened, again, was the pink meaty demon hands waving in the air, and the feeling that her head was lifting off the pillows. Oh. Oh no. Those hands were powered by her will! She was in some demon’s body… She tried sitting up, which didn’t work for some reason, although she tried hard, and took a good look at herself.

Oops. No demon. Just a very, very fat woman. Willow looked own, and all she could see were the mountains of her huge breasts, with a glimpse of stomach hill a little further down. Her arms were gigantic, her fingers sausages. She was in an unknown room. There were lots of possibilities; the room could be the body’s room, or she was being held prisoner by some agency (probably demonic). Or. It was hard to think. The body was really hungry. Willow checked again under the folds of the huge flowered nightgown, but there were no restraints. There should be no reason she couldn’t just sit up and get off the bed. 

She tried sitting up again. What could be the reason it wasn’t working? Maybe her stomach muscles just weren’t up to the job. After some undignified attempts to roll over, she succeeded in getting up by way of rolling on her side and levering herself slowly up with the help of her arms, her head, and the headboard of the bed. Well. She was sitting up. She couldn’t see her feet. They must be there. She wiggled them. Yeah. Fat people could walk, couldn’t they? She stood up, again needing several attempts. Her weight dragged at her, hung on her shoulders and hips, her knees hurt. Being fat must be no fun at all. Carefully she started walking to the small mirror that hung at eye height on the opposite wall. Gravity was a bitch…

Willow peered at her reflection. Youngish woman, with a face made piggy by fat cheeks. 

When she spotted a phone, she realized she’d better call Tara, who would be worried. She punched in the numbers, and let it ring all thirteen times, but no answer. She tried Buffy’s number.

“Go away!” a voice screamed in her ear. “Go away! Nobody lives here! Stop calling!”

Whoa. She stared at the number she’d punched. She wasn’t completely sure that it had been the right number, although she’d never forgotten a number in her life. Perhaps in a different body her brains weren’t working so good. She’d better be quick and find the others, before her mental processes deteriorated completely. She should get dressed and get herself to the Magic Box. It wasn’t open yet, but by the time she got there it would be. 

Showering was a challenge, or more accurately, the drying off. Her unknown host did have huge towels, but reaching every crevice, not to mention her toes, was impossible. How would she normally do that? Willow had never contemplated the challenges the fat must face every day. Not the fat, the weight challenged, she corrected herself. Dressing was almost as difficult. Try standing on one foot to get into your panties when you weigh 280 pounds. Willow resorted to sitting down for it and wearing a dress instead of pants. Putting on sandals was like blind man’s buff: find the shoes and get your feet in correctly.

She wandered through the apartment looking for the kitchen. As it consisted only of the one bedroom and a living room besides the kitchen, it wasn’t hard. The fridge was well stocked. Willow contemplated the lure of all the goodies like cheese, eggs and salami that were available, but resolutely settled for low-fat yoghurt.

Who knows how long I’ll be stuck in this body, she said to herself. I’m not going to be responsible for those knees if there’s any more food put in this stomach. It can starve a bit. After the meager breakfast, she began her journey to the Magic Box. She hadn’t been able to find car keys, and no means of knowing if the woman even owned a car. At the last moment before leaving, she found a purse, containing keys, ID and some money. No driver’s license. Imelda Bonham, 32, librarian. Maybe her thought processes were safe after all. Cheered up by this notion, Willow made her slow and arduous way across Sunnydale. It seemed kind of quiet for a weekday, and there weren’t a lot of cars on the road. 

Walking was hell, she discovered. Her feet hurt, the sweat gathering between the folds of her belly itched, and she got out of breath easily. She was exhausted by the time she spied the Espresso Pump, and only the promise of caffeine powered the last hundred yards.

“Your usual, Miss Bonham?” the new young Afro-American attendant asked her.

“Um, no, a triple black espresso and a glass of water, please,” Willow said. “I thought you were new here, I never saw you here before.”

Tears gathered in the girl’s eyes. “I didn’t know what else to do except go to work like usual,” she said. “I woke up and I looked like this, and I was a in a strange house and all, and…And all I could think of was to do something normal. It’s so scary. You think it’s a punishment?”

“You mean you’re Rachel?” Willow said. “I’m Willow Rosenberg! You know, white mocha latte?”

“What do you mean? Are you in a different body too?” Rachel burst into tears for real now. “I thought it was just me. I’m sorry to be so happy about it, but I’m so glad I’m not alone!”

“Don’t worry,” Willow said. “Me and my friends do this kind of stuff all the time. We’ll help you!”

After further reassuring Rachel, she tried to sit on a stool, as she always did, but had to concede defeat and move to a chair. The edges pinched her buttocks. She sipped her espresso and looked thoughtfully at the few other patrons. It was noticeably quiet in the Pump. Maybe, just maybe, everybody had undergone a body change? When she’d finished her coffee and water, and her heart rate had calmed down somewhat, she walked over to a morose looking man in the corner, who kept stirring his empty coffee cup.

“Um, sir, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” the man said, without looking up.

“Did you, um, maybe wake up in a different body today?”

His head whipped up sharply. “How do you know? Does it show? Can everybody see my shame?”

Shame? Huh?

“Um, no, sir, but it happened to me, too. And the girl behind the counter. So I just thought I’d check with everyone here, because if all the people have different bodies now, and have woken up in strange houses, people are gonna feel kinda weird…”.

He stared at her as if she was insane. “This felt so personal. To put me in the body of the man I fired and humiliated. Did it happen to everybody? I’m not singled out?”

He leapt up. “Well, whatever body I’m in, I’m still me, and I’m gonna show them.” He strode off.

“Go, stranger,” Willow said, bemused, and moved over to the next coffee drinker.

It was as she had been starting to suspect. All people had woken up in strange bodies. It seemed completely random, male into female, young into old, thin into fat. 

Willow started on the last leg of her journey to the Magic Box with a head full of facts and speculation. Why? What was the point? Why everybody? Who stood to gain? How had it been done? 

By the time she had reached the shop, she couldn’t care less. She wanted to sit and not move again for several hours. The exhaustion was overwhelming. How did Imelda ever manage to get in a full working day? There was a little group of people standing silently before the still closed shop door. A little girl of about nine years old, Willy from Willy’s Demon Bar, a, two men, a young one and an older guy.

“Hi!” Willow said perkily. “I’m Willow. Who are you?”

They all started talking at once.

“Whoa, guys!” Willow said, using her new powerful voice to silence them all. ”One by one. Giles, you in there somewhere?”

“In here,” the little girl said sulkily, but with a notable British accent. “This is really insufferable! I can’t even get into my shop, because of course my real body has the key!”

“Let’s just break in,” the young man suggested. “Not that I have my Slayer strength, but I’m sure we could get around that!”

“Buffy!“ Willow exclaimed, and embraced the young man, who withstood her onslaught bravely.

Willow turned to Willy. He smiled sweetly at her and dipped his eyelashes. “Tara, sweetie!” she exclaimed and folded Willy’s skinny body in a hug. They kissed, a little clumsy because of the differences in their loaned bodies, but Willow was hugely relieved anyway.

“So! About time you asked me who I was,” the old man snapped angrily. “You never stop making me feel I’m not one of you, don’t you?”

“Hi Anya,” Willow said resignedly.

“Alright, so how do we get into the shop, preferably without breaking in?” the little girl said tartly, with a look at Buffy, who stood with her hands in her pockets, a feigned innocent look on her face.

“Um,” Willy said softly, “I found some weird tools in my pocket. D’you think these might be…?” She held them up.

“Absolutely perfect,” the girl Giles said, and snatched them with alacrity from Willy/Tara’s fingers. “I think I remember how to do this….” She stuck one of the thin little instruments in the lock and stood with her eyes closed while she fiddled with concentration.

“Giles, when exactly were you a burglar?”

“Hah!” Buffy snorted. “Don’t you remember Giles in his Ripper reincarnation? Scariest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Giles looked at her warily, but when the expected follow-up didn’t materialize, he bent over his task again. It seemed to take hours, and Willow kept looking around nervously, any moment expecting police cars to come riding up with flashing lights, and cops jumping out and pointing guns at her. Reason told her the cops would be as confused in their different bodies as they were, but the fear couldn’t be rationalized away. She sighed with relief as Giles finally jimmied the lock and the door went open with a click. The shop bell rang merrily, startling her into an undignified bleat.

“You all right Willow?” Giles asked perfunctorily.

“Do you mean, as such, apart from the whole terrible body change thing, or as in how are you coping with the situation? The last, huh, I can see it by your face, well, I’m kinda freaking out. And I have to sit down, ‘cause even if these legs are made of triple enforced concrete, they’re pretty damn tired by now.”

Tara sat down next to her. “You went by the Espresso Pump, didn’t you? You know all that caffeine is bad for you, honey…”

“Yeah…” Willow leaned back into Tara’s stroking hand and indulged in some sorely needed support getting. “How did you wake up, sweetie?”

Tara’s voice trembled, but she kept up the stroking. “In Willy’s bed, with his wife. Who was really something else, I guess, speaking some kind of demon language. It was kinda scary…”

“What?” Giles’ voice sounded aghast. “The demons are included in this whole body-swap thing? The chaos is going to be massive!”

“That’s why we need to research, of course!” Buffy said perkily. “And kick the evil bastards’ asses!”

“Buffy!”

Willow sat up a little straighter. Her tiredness was wearing off, and anyway, this was all way too interesting to miss. “Where is Xander? Riley? Who knows what happened to them!”

The shop bell rang and Riley walked in. He started walking towards the back, but stopped short when he saw the odd assortment of people in there.” Hey!” he said. “Not the people I was looking for. Shop changed hands or something?”

He turned smartly on his heels and marched out, shirttails flaring out behind him. 

“Stop!” Giles said authoritatively. “It’s me, Giles. Were you somehow spared the body swap, Riley?”

Riley turned slowly and looked at them in surprise. “Body swap? As in everybody?” When Giles nodded, he said, “I take it this is the Scooby gang, then? Who’s who?”

It was kind of funny the way they stuck up their hands and identified themselves. Riley scratched his head. “Alright, then. Might as well ‘fess up. I’m not Riley, I’m Spike, your friendly neighborhood vampire. Thought it was just me, when I woke up in Soldier Boy’s bed this morning.”

“Did you see Buffy? “ Willow asked. “I thought Buffy was staying over at Riley’s last night.”

“Well, I did and I didn’t, see? It wasn’t really Buffy, I understand that now, so whatever you’re thinking, it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t your little fearless leader.”

“Ew, Spike! What did you do! That’s just gross!” Willow said. 

Buffy just glared at him. Willow admired her restraint. When Faith had played her a similar trick she'd been a lot madder.

Spike grinned and shrugged, which was very disconcerting on Riley’s boyish face and huge frame. “You know what boys are like when they wake up, don’t you? 

He threw a huge wink at Tara, who blushed painfully. 

‘S only natural to do what we did. I am kinda curious who was in there though. Kinda like to meet her again…” 

“Maybe it was a him,” Willow sniped, but Spike only shrugged again. 

“Who cares? It’s the imagination that counts, not the body someone’s in.”

“Now that we all know how Spike spent his morning, I’d like us to focus on the job at hand,” Giles said stiffly.

“Shouldn’t we try to find the others?” Anya said. “I want to know my Xander is safe and well!”

Giles smiled. “Spike. Now that you have the opportunity to be out and about in sunlight, I’m sure you don’t want to waste another minute of it. Why don’t you go and find Xander and Dawn?”

“That may sound reasonable, Rupert, but it isn’t. They could be anywhere; I wouldn’t know where to start. The smart thing to do is wait here until they come to you. The others did. I did! Why wouldn’t they?” Spike said, not budging an inch from his comfortable perch on the ladder.

“Perhaps he’s trapped, or imprisoned!” Anya said, panicking. “What if they’re really after him?”

Willow and Giles looked at each other in horror. “They’re after Buffy, of course. Who else?”

“You don’t know that!” Buffy objected. “I’m still here, free as a bird. Someone could just be after a bit of fun and games, for all we know.”

Spike got up and walked over to Buffy. He bent over her and stared deeply into her eyes.

“Spike! Go away!” Buffy said.

“Of course. Slayer,” Spike said, and sketched a little mock bow before retreating from her. “You know what? Rupert here was right after all. I’ll go put my ear to the ground in the demon community, try to find out what’s up and all that.”

Before any of them could say anything he was up and walking out of the shop.

“Who knows, he might even find out something useful,” Giles said dismissively, and bent over his stack of books again. “Willow, if you’ll take the Magic Codexes, and Tara the Chronicles of the Templars, I’ll take the Liber Maleficorum. Anya, for you the Demonic Index, Buffy the Illustrated Guide.”

Anya grumbled a bit, but they all settled down quickly in the familiar routine. Willow hardly noticed the peculiar shapes everybody was wearing anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

Spike sauntered happily through the center of Sunnydale, taking in the sun and the sight of anxious, bewildered people shuffling about with relish. It wasn’t as if he’d like to do this everyday — he was a vampire and happy to stay that way, thank you very much — but a bit of change now and then never did a bloke anything but good. He was tall and good-looking, in an earnest, boring kind of way, and he planned to make use of it as long as he could. It was pretty odd, considering, but he trusted the Slayer and her gang to make an end to this double-quick, so he’d better hurry.

Now where could the Slayer be? Whatever body she’d be in, she’d be sure to make her way as fast as she could to the Watcher’s silly shop, so there must be something stopping her. He laughed out loud when a happy thought struck him. Perhaps she was stuck in a vampire body – wouldn’t that be priceless? 

Spike couldn’t understand why her fuzzy pals hadn’t seen through the deception – whoever was claiming to be the Slayer wasn’t doing a particularly stellar job of it by any means. He shrugged. They’d find out in their own good time – no need to be too helpful, was there? Evil vampire after all.  

He struck out towards his own cemetery. He’d try there first, and then check out Harm’s lair. Scare a couple of decent citizens who were no doubt cowering there, wondering what the hell had happened to them. The cemetery was looking very nice in sunlight, what with the green grass and all the pretty flowers. The stone could use a scrubbing, though, all that mossy marble was a disgrace. A sudden, half-remembered urge came upon him, and to his surprise his body still knew exactly how to do it. He sprayed a marble angel thoroughly, see if the moss would survive a healthy dose of Iowa pee.

“Hullo!” he caroled sweetly into the open door of his crypt. “Anybody ho-ome?” There was no reaction. His guts clenched unpleasantly in sudden fear. What if some clueless human hadn’t realized he or she was a vampire and had stepped out into the morning sun? He searched the threshold for traces of dust, but found none. Spike stood up and strode off, a new purpose in his steps. He needed to find his own body, keep it safe and sound against the return of his, um, personality. Never mind the Slayer or any of the other little friends. Spike himself was much more important. 

“Harm? Harmony?”

The sounds of sobbing ceased. “Who’s there?” Harmony’s voice answered uncertainly.

“A friend,” Spike improvised and advanced cautiously into the lair. The place was in a state, but that was normal for Harmony, who’d never adjusted to her maid-less vampire state in that way. She sat dejectedly on the frilly bed, un-made up and uncombed. Hmm. Spike guessed her present inhabitant might be male. He kind of liked Harmony in her natural state, so to speak, she looked very young and vulnerable that way. He might as well give it a little try. The odds were that the person in there wasn’t another vampire and wouldn’t know, or at least wouldn’t realize what to do with a vampire bod.

“You look good enough to eat, Harm,” he said with his most winning smile and sat down close to her.

“Riley!” she squeaked and scooted away from him a little.

“You know me?” Spike said, and inched closer again. “Than you also know also that I’m a good guy and would never harm you in any way…”

Harmony nodded, but nevertheless moved a bit more to her left, finally ending up against the headboard. Spike followed, so that she was effectively trapped between his body and the bed. 

It was fun, Spike decided, being so big and all. He was absolutely looming over poor Harm, or whoever was in there, and he liked it. He put his big hand on Harmony’s cool thigh. 

“How about it, hon?” he said. “Why don’t you tell me what has you all hot and bothered…” 

Harmony pushed off Spike’s hand several times, but Spike wasn't to  be deterred so easily. Eventually she let the hand lie on her thigh, but started squirming and panting uneasily, apparently quite affected by Spike’s hand and its actions. “Why do you have an English accent?”

Christ. Was the person in there also limited to Harm’s brain size or was he or she simply just as dumb?

“Why not?” he murmured and gave Harm's left breast a firm squeeze. The, presumably male, person in there had obviously forgotten to put on a bra.

Harmony sighed and pushed her breast against his hand, but then changed her mind and tried to crawl away from him. Spike pushed her down on the bed and started unbuttoning her blouse. She tried to swat away his hands, but used no more power than a real girl might have if she didn’t mean it.

“Please, don’t!” Harmony begged. “I’m a boy, this is wrong! Please! Oh! Stop! Yes, right there…I mean, stop! I’m not gay!”

“Of course not,” Spike rumbled into her stomach. “Nor am I! You’re a girl now. A once-in-a lifetime chance. Enjoy it. Learn something. Think of how you can surprise your girlfriend…”

He slowly drew her pants’ zipper down, and followed its trajectory with his now hot tongue, knowing the effect of that heat on a vampire. Harmony arched off the bed and moaned throatily.

A vampire’s easy arousal was clearly affecting the person in there, and pretty soon Spike didn’t give a damn who it was, and could only concentrate on the delightful contrast of cool vampire skin and tongue to his own warm body. He peeled Harmony’s clothes off slowly, keeping her interested by licking and pinching. Making love to a body with someone else in it was an interesting experience, he thought, as he slid Riley’s respectably proportioned cock inside. Riley’s body started to sweat and pant, just like this morning with Buffy’s body, and Spike felt a tingle of worry in the back of his mind. The body was human, and limited. How many times could he do it before the Scoobies changed everyone back? Maybe only four or five times. Damn, he’d have to be picky. Well, after he finished with Harm here.

God, this was so different from making love to a warm human being. The contrast the memory of Buffy’s body made to Harm’s cool and slowly warming body was huge. The coolness, combined with the slickness of her passage made for a really tantalizing experience. Too bad there wasn’t a human girl available as well, so he could dip in hot and cold at turns. Damn Harm, who would only do it with one Charlize Theron, who would probably not be available. There had to be a girl somewhere who looked just enough like her to convince Harm, who wasn’t that sharp.

He brought Harmony to a screaming climax a couple of times – he’d never known her to be so loud and easy–, and wasn’t at all prepared for the teeth that sank into his neck at the last one, just as he was coming himself. 

“Aaargh!” he screamed, completely surprised, but unable to move as an orgasm of triple intensity thundered through his body. The urge to give over and let go was impossibly hard to resist, and only his detailed knowledge of what a vampire was and did enabled him to push Harmony off in time. He slumped down on the bed and felt for the neck wounds gingerly. Perhaps he should have Riley vamped, as a nice surprise for the Slayer? Nah. He was having too much fun today, and being vamped would incapacitate him for days. And who knew what would happen with another demon into the mix? Better not. He shook off the human drowsiness was stealing over him and got up to get dressed. He had evil to do, and people to harass.

“Why are you leaving?” Harmony asked. “Aren’t you going to help me?”

“No, why would I do that?” Spike said, puzzled.

“Because I thought you were strong and manly and a good guy!” Harmony said, deeply indignant, on the brink of tears again.

“Well, Harris, now that you’ve been able to live out your fantasies about big strong men from Iowa, it's time to realize that Riley’s left the building. _Everybody’s_ changed bodies, you nit!” Spike snarled.

He shrugged on his duster and left. He turned and called out an afterthought to the stunned boy on the bed. “Tell Willow to keep an eye on the Slayer, she’s not who she seems to be!”

Back on the streets again. It was still morning, and a peculiar feeling was starting to plague his stomach. He was probably going to have to eat, if he wanted to keep going all day. Being human was so labor-intensive. He spotted the Espresso Pump’s sunny terrace, marked a place in his mind and ordered coffee and pie at the counter. 

The waitress stared at him. “Small, medium, large?”

“Large,” he said, speculating on the size of his stomach.

“With or without?” she continued, staring off into the distance.

“What? With or without what?” Spike said, baffled. How hard could it be to get coffee? 

“Caffeine, sir.”

“With!”

“With or without milk, low fat or not, extra milk, foam, cream, mocha, chocolate?” 

“Shut up!” Spike roared. He lunged over the counter and grabbed the girl by her neck. “Just get me a nice, normal cup of coffee and bring it out there, okay?”

The girl nodded silently, her eyes huge. “Yes, sir!”

Spike stalked off to his chosen chair and with one bark chased away the woman that had dared sit down there in the meantime. The waitress brought his coffee within a minute. 

“Hey!” Spike said when she walked off. “A piece of pie and something big and sweet with chocolate and cream, too!”

“Yes, sir!”

That was more like it. Spike took a sip of his coffee, and sighed deeply. Being human wasn’t so bad, with the right attitude. Almost like having his own minions again. Sometimes he missed them. They were a pain in the ass, usually, but there was something satisfying in working out your anger on a subservient being. He missed that. Maybe he could make Harris his minion, now that he knew his weak spot. He grinned. Who’d have thought that Captain Cardboard made Harris’ knees tremble? Must be all that manliness and decent living. Ha! There were endless blackmail possibilities. He sighed again. This was fun, all this mayhem and chaos, just like the old days.

His eyes roved idly over the passing crowds. They were very small crowds, even for Sunnydale. Only natural, everyone being all confused and scared. The real surprise was that there were some people who had actually gone to work as usual. Human beings could be pretty tough, Spike thought.

He spotted an ancient lady on the sidewalk, making her way to the crossing with agonizing slowness. Spike knew that in this day and age someone looking like that might be over eighty or even ninety, while in his time a woman would have looked like that a fifty or sixty. He was grateful for the little reminder of human mortality as he watched her shuffle along. Otherwise he might be in danger of becoming too fond of the pleasures of the human body. This was how the humans ended, feeble and ugly, and it was not what his planned future looked like. When Harris would be ending his days in an indigent old people’s home, suffering the indignities of bedpans and such, he’d be chipless and free, slaughtering people all over the world, as beautiful as ever.

Feeling pleasantly filled up, Spike got up and walked off slowly, trying to think where he could possibly find his own body. He couldn’t think of anything, except walking through all of Sunnydale and knocking on every door, a totally pointless exercise. He stood at the curb to let a nearly empty bus pass, and felt a faint tug at his sleeve. The ancient lady was looking up at him with a huge, loose-dentured smile.

“Riley!” she said in a creaking, trembling old-lady voice. “My Riley! I’m so happy to see you! I really need to get somewhere, but my legs won’t work so well today. You can give me a hand!”

Spike looked down at her in stupefaction. From the tiny prunes of her weak eyes stared unmistakably the spirit of the Slayer. 

”Slayer?” he stammered.

She swatted him playfully, her touch as insubstantial as a caress. “Silly! Call me Buffy, like always! Now give me your arm and help me cross the street. The light keeps changing on me.”

In shock Spike extended his arm and waited for her to put her trembling arm, weighed down by a huge purse, in his. After she’d tried a few times to lift her arm that high, he picked hers up and deposited it in the crook of his elbow. The light was red again.

“You see?” she said, and pointed her crooked little claw at the light. “Red again.”

Spike stared at the lights and back at her wrinkled, shrunken face and the scant bluish hair on her scalp. Okay, he got the body change, but why the hell was the Slayer acting like a demented old lady? Because she was in the body of one? That was a downright scary thought! If he had Riley’s mental shortcomings to deal with as well as his body, he really needed to get out of there fast. He’d better get back to the Magic Box and help the Scoobies out in earnest. The thought that he might not be quite himself anymore was utterly terrifying. 

He picked up Buffy under his arm and ran across the street. To the shop and quickly. Buffy squealed and giggled in her scratchy ancient voice and pinched his butt. It was deeply disturbing. Halfway to his destination he stood stock-still and set the old woman down with a thump. He already was mentally challenged! Here he was, with the Slayer in his arms, completely helpless, and the thought of killing her entered his mind only now. He looked at the dry, turkey-like folds of her thin neck and imagined squeezing it, or twisting it. It held no appeal. Sinking in his fangs? He didn’t want to go there at all. The only way he wanted to kill the Slayer was in a rousing fight, blood and fangs and no holds barred. With a frustrated shake of his head he picked her up again and strode on. 

“You’re my stud! You’re my goer! I’m gonna ride you all night!” she yelled playfully, and tried pinching him again. Spike almost thwapped her firmly, but he was too afraid to break her. He knew the Scoobies wouldn’t like that.

Spike was deeply grateful that he was a) not in his own body, and b) everyone was too miserable themselves to be interested in somebody else’s misfortune, like being sexually molested by someone your grandmother's age. He gritted his teeth and walked faster. 

He kicked the door of the Magic Box open, and found everyone in the exact same positions he’d left them in, bent over crumbly tomes and probably  bored to death. 

“Honey, I’m back!” he called out, “and guess who I found?”

Triumphantly he held the old lady aloft. She squealed happily at being held up in the air so high, and gripped his arms with her feathery grey hands.

“Is that Xander?” Giles asked and tripped over to them in his Mary-Janes and little yellow skirt to peer into the old woman’s eyes.

“Silly!” the old woman crowed merrily and tried to swat archly at Giles. She missed, and nearly tumbled out of Spike’s arms. “Duh! I’m Buffy, of course. Riley helped me get here, because the lights were red all the time.”

“Buffy?” Giles' voice echoed with surprise. They all turned their heads to where Buffy, or the person who’d pretended to be Buffy had been sitting, but she had disappeared. Willow gasped and pointed at the empty chair. 

“She’s gone, Giles!” she cried out.

“We should have tested everyone before we accepted who they were,” Anya snapped. “Now I could have told you what Xander likes best in bed so you would have been sure I was who I said I was. How can we be sure you are Willow?”

“Are you sure this is Buffy?” Giles asked doubtfully, ignoring the tiff at the table.

Spike put the old woman on her feet and knelt down in front of her. He put his big finger under her fragile chin and looked at her seriously. “Why don’t you tell the sweet little girl what your name is?”

“I’m Buffy. Buffy the Vampire Slayer! What’s your name, sweetie?” she said to Giles, and pinched his cheek.

Giles clenched his teeth and moved his face out of her reach with a jerk. He said, “Buffy, this is Giles. We have all been magicked into different bodies. Do you remember what happened?”

Ancient Buffy stretched out a trembling hand and looked at it vaguely. “It looks fine to me?” she tried gamely, obviously trying to please.

“I’d say the Slayer is out for the game, Watcher,” Spike said impatiently. “Doesn't remember a thing and has no inhibitions left. I knew the impostor wasn’t the real article as soon as I heard him say a few words. That’s our man, don’t you think? The one who did all this bloody magic?”

Giles wrenched his attention away from Buffy, who’d started to sway a little and whose head was drooping. 

“Yes, yes, you’re right. We’ve got to find him, whoever he is.” He scratched his head absent-mindedly and moved automatically to the research table,

“How old do you think she is?” Spike asked idly. “Let’s hope she doesn’t die on us!”


	3. Chapter 3

Willow found it difficult to keep her eyes off the old lady on the chair next to her. She sat there, faintly shaking all over, snoring gently in an exhausted sleep. You had to hand it to Buffy; she had found a way to get to the Magic Box, dementia and thousand wrinkles notwithstanding. Willow was a little afraid to touch her, she looked like she might shed or flake or break. Buffy's little wrinkly paw was all crooked, arthritis maybe, and her own beefy shiny hand would put too much pressure on the fragile bones.  
   
How would it feel to wake in a body like that? Buffy must at first have been more alert and herself than she was now, or she would never had gotten up and tried to come to the Magic Box. Waking up, thinking you are this uber-strong Slayer, lying happily in your bed with your boyfriend, and then being in this frail body, probably woken up by some obnoxious nurse who spoke about 'we' when she meant Buffy. What kind of breakfast would she have gotten? Something liquid, Willow bet. Ew.  
   
And then Tara. After her first impulsive hug, she had avoided touching her all day. It was just too weird touching Willy, who not only was Willy the snitch, someone they knew and did not love, but also a man. Imagine them kissing! Tara hadn't shaved this morning, which was understandable but she had felt kind of scratchy when she kissed her. She knew Tara had noticed what she was doing, and she felt really ashamed about it. Tara probably didn’t feel anything like that, to Tara it might not even matter what kind of body she was in. Tara would love her even in this giant marshmallow, she was sure. It was awful to fall so short of her own mark, but she just couldn’t bring herself to stroke Willy's hair, or squeeze his thigh, like she would have done with Tara.  
   
She was such a failure. Even this morning, she should have done everything different. Done locator spells on everyone, not hurry wheezing and puffing over here and get taken in by the first impostor that came along. Why hadn't Tara spotted it? She'd known immediately that something was wrong that time when Faith had done the exchange with Buffy. What she had been fearing from the start must be true. Their bodies were affecting their abilities, and if they didn’t hurry they were going to be trapped in them forever. Everybody was sitting around yawning and dozing off, and it just wouldn’t do.  
   
Willow slapped down her hand on the table. "We can’t go on like this!" she declared. "We're degenerating. We have to move fast or perish. Or not perish but anyway be trapped in these bodies that I personally don't particularly like at all, and eventually we would then die in them, even if that wouldn’t be for many years yet."  
   
"What Red said," Spike declared after a short pause. Willow shot him a grateful smile, since everyone else was looking a little stunned.  
   
"How a bout a game of hopscotch, Rupes, or whatever these kids play these days?"  
   
"Shut up, Spike," Giles said tiredly.  
   
He was eating candy out of a big bag, Anya's secret stash. Anya'd said she didn’t mind sharing, because right now she didn’t feel like eating sweets at all.  
   
"If my memory is accurate, this is what it feels like to crave a really nice big Cuban," Anya said.  
   
"You ate Cubans?" Willow said, surprised. "I thought you venged?"  
   
"Cuban cigars, Willow," Giles snapped.  
   
The sweets didn’t seem to be improving his temper. Could be the additives. Willow thought of warning him about the effect on his attention span, but decided not to.  
   
"Why don’t we order a couple of nice big pizzas?" Willow suggested. "I'm really hungry. We could all use a meal. Riley- I mean Spike is a big strapping fellow who needs a lot of food."  
   
Spike winked at her and hitched up Riley's slacks suggestively. To Willow's horror she had a hard time tearing her eyes away from Riley's slacks. Oh dear. This body wasn't gay. Firmly she looked away from the corn-fed goodness and smiled at Tara.  
   
Buffy woke up, smiled a wobbly-toothed smile at everyone and fell asleep again. No help there. Spike was getting restive. After annoying everyone with endless finger drumming, fiddling with pencils and studying his own veins and heartbeat, he jumped up and started to pace.  
   
"I can't believe you people fell for that fellow, that impostor, who pretended to be Buffy. D'you know, the more I think about it I actually think he's a bit familiar? Seen him somewhere before, you know. Let me think, people changing bodies, random chaos…"  
   
"Ethan!" Giles blurted out.  
   
"Yeah, right, that's who I mean. Bloke who turned you into a demon. Thought you knew him from before, Rupes?"  
   
Giles colored angrily and stuffed more candy in his mouth.  
   
Willow didn't think all that intuitive stuff was worth much. She preferred solid research, with nicely written notes. Intuition couldn’t be proved or copied. "How can you be so sure, Spike?"  
   
"I don’t need Spike's 'intuitions' to know it was Ethan," Giles scoffed. "It has his signature written all over it!"  
   
Spike ignored him and answered Willow. "Knew right away it weren't Buffy, didn’t I?"  
   
"Well, no," Willow objected, "you more or less told us this morning you slept with Buffy. You hadn't realized everybody had skipped to another body before you saw us here!"  
   
She really hated it when people tried to make you forget things they'd told you themselves. Everybody was always pretending to forget things they'd said or done. Like people's memories were really that bad! She was sure she could still remember all her classmates' birthdays from third grade on, and had never believed nobody else could. Except Xander, of course.  
   
"Now that we know it is Ethan, what are we gonna do about it?" she asked Giles.  
   
"We really need to apprehend him," Giles mused, folding and refolding the now empty bag of sweets. He must be missing his glasses. Willow nodded. They went back to their books.  
   
Dusk fell, pizza arrived. Spike slept. He had a slight snore that unobtrusively accompanied the rustling of pages and the scratching of pens, counterpointed by the irregular snuffling Buffy's body produced.  
   
Shortly after the pizza man had left, the shop bell clanged again.  
   
"Who's there?" Giles called out.  
   
When Harmony came in, moving awkwardly, with odd empathic shoulder movements, Willow just knew there was someone else in there, not Harmony. Thank God. Harmony was not her favorite person, and vampirehood had not improved her. Though how could you blame her for that, really, when she had died fighting bravely with the whole senior class? Actually, that would apply to Spike as well, and to most vampires. Vampires were really victims. Willow shook her head. Thoughts like that would get her killed one day.  
   
"Please, help me," Harmony whined. "I'm so hungry! It smells so good here…"  
   
Giles advanced on Harmony with a crucifix held over his head. "Who is that in here? Xander?"  
   
Harmony nodded pitifully and tossed her disheveled locks. "Yes. What are you doing here, sweetie pie? I'm looking for the owner, Mr. Giles."  
   
"I am Giles, you dolt. Don't you realize everybody has been magicked into another body?"  
   
"Oh. Okay, I guess Riley told me, but I didn't really believe it. I mean, Riley hasn't changed!"  
   
All heads turned to Spike, who'd been keeping to the back of the store. He lifted his hands as if to ward off their accusing looks.  
   
"Never said I was Riley. Harris here just assumed I was," he said  
   
Harmony's mouth fell open in indignation. "That is so unfair. You know what he did to me? He…"  
   
She fell silent, and waved away their concerned questions. Willow thought she should be glad Riley hadn't staked her. No, Xander should be glad Spike hadn't eaten him? Or the other way around? It was hard to keep track of all the ramifications.  
   
"We'd offer you pizza, Xander, but I guess that's not what you'd like?" Willow said.  
   
Xander shook his head mutely. "Where's Buffy?" he said. "Kicking demon ass I hope?"  
   
Willow nodded at the wheezing octogenarian next to her.  
   
Harmony's face fell. "Oh. She's out for the count, huh?"  
   
He sidled over to Riley, who'd rapidly eaten two slices of pizza, and then retired to the ladder again. Willow was left with most of one pizza, and with a guilty feeling started on her third slice. She'd denied her body all day, and the presence of the food was just too much for her. In between the delights of eating, she overheard snatches of whispered conversation between Xander and Spike.  
   
"…really mean it?"  
   
"…it was just a …"  
   
"…gay? …"  
   
"…hands off me!"  
   
The whispering made it hard to distinguish who was saying what. She stooped chewing, trying to hear better, when suddenly she started to feel dizzy. The pizza came closer and closer, and she felt herself falling into the gaping hole of a black olive.  
   
******  
   
Willow's nose was squashed unpleasantly against something cool and hard, very unlike pizza. She lifted her head, and discovered she was hovering very far above one of the little table at the Espresso Pump. A thick, veiny and hairy hand was lying on the table. She was a guy now? A furtive check of her body confirmed this. The hovering feeling was caused by being pretty tall. The hand and the watch seemed familiar, but the khakis and loose sweater were too bland to give any information. She'd better check it out in the toilet. She remembered to take a sharp left at the man's toilets, giving herself a mental pat on the back for her presence of mind. When she saw whom she was wearing, she gave a delighted gasp. Giles! At least she'd have a full size brain to play with.  
   
Whoever had inhabited Giles previously had remembered to bring money, and Willow treated herself to her second double espresso that day instead of the hot chocolate the body had been drinking. Feeling sharp and alert, she weighed her options. Locator spell wasn't needed right now, everybody knew to come to the Magic Box. Undoubtedly, Ethan had affected another change to throw them off the trail. They wouldn’t know his new body. They would have to find the place where he performed his ritual; because there was no way this kind of magic could have affected without using lots of power. There must be traces.  
   
Willow got up and purposefully went to the Magic Box. She enjoyed the feeling of Giles' long long legs eating away the distance easily. It was as if she had waddled all her life and this was really walking for the first time. Her arms moved differently, straighter somehow. Sooner than she had thought, the shop came into view. The others were probably inside already.  
   
No, she was the first. The only person in the shop was the old lady who'd contained Buffy earlier on, sleeping peacefully at the big table. Willow decided to let her sleep. She swung herself onto the counter, a feat she could easily perform now, and perched there feeling triumphant. The shop bell rang and a nondescript middle-aged man came in uncertainly. His face lit up when he saw Willow.  
   
"Giles? Man, am I glad to see you!"  
   
"Xander? It's Willow!"  
   
"Even better!" Xander made as if to hug her, and then suddenly changed his mind and twitched away from her.  
   
"You’re way jumpy," Willow observed.  
   
"Whaddya think? Inhabiting Harmony, who’s not only the greatest ditz this side of Hollywood but a vampire too? I don’t know if it was just her, or all vampires, but she sniffed every person, every street lamp, every bit of demon goo I never even would have noticed…" He shivered exaggeratedly.  
   
Waffley Xander was usually evadey Xander. "What happened between you and Spike?" Willow asked innocently.  
   
Xander scratched his balding head. "Um. Actually, I bit him. I drank his blood. Talk about ew!"  
   
"You drank his blood? No kidding? What was it like?"  
   
"It was gross! Can you imagine drinking blood? It seemed hot, you know, and sweet and coppery and …" His voice trailed off, a faraway look in his eyes. "Better than sex, you know."  
   
"But you don’t know what vampire sex feels like," Willow objected. "That might be even…oh. Ew. Who did you have sex w…Oh. Ew. Eww!"  
   
A silence fell. Guilt rose.  
   
"Oh no!" Willow said. "Oh Xander! I'm such a bad friend! There is nothing wrong with two guys having sex! Are you gay now? Do you want to go on a double date with me and Tara? With, um, Spike or Riley?"  
   
Xander looked miserable and confused. "I just don't know, Will. I mean, I was a girl, I…"  
   
He was saved by the bell. Harmony came in again, arm tightly held by the woman next to her.  
   
"Hello," Harmony mumbled, apparently unable to meet their eyes.  
   
"Slut!" Xander came up to her and slapped her face. "Having sex left and right! How could you!"  
   
"Xander?" Willow didn’t know what to think.  
   
"Will you keep your hands to yourself, Xander," Harmony said between clenched teeth. "It's hard enough to control myself as it is! I won't be responsible for the consequences if you do it again."  
   
"Oh. Hi Giles."  
   
Willow swung her legs, still happily seated next to the cash register. "Giles? How come you weren’t here when I came in? You must have switched inside the shop!"  
   
Giles evaded her eyes, and mumbled something about "uncontrollable impulses". Hm. Xander had done a better job holding Harmony in check than Giles…Willow stifled a giggle. Hee. Giles had a really funny high-pitched giggle.  
   
"I fail to see the humor in this, Willow," Giles said stiffly.  
   
The woman who'd brought in Giles waved at Willow. "Hi," she said softly.  
   
Willow dropped in a pit of guilt. Tara had been in here for minutes, waiting patiently until everybody was ready with Giles, and she hadn’t even seen! She jumped off the counter and hugged Tara.  
   
"Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry, I didn’t know it was you. I'm a bad girlfriend for not noticing it was you…"  
   
Tara winced slightly. Willow drew back and looked at her with concern.  
   
"What is it, baby?"  
   
Tara's hand went to her neck, and her eyes shot to Giles and back. "Um, there was a s..slight misunderstanding."  
   
Willow wasn't satisfied with that and drew back Tara's hand to check her neck. Two ugly ragged puncture wounds were visible just below her ear.  
   
"Giles!" Willow said angrily. "How could you!"  
   
The bell rang. Right behind each other, a tall, voluptuous woman and Joyce walked in. Willow experienced another pang of guilt. Joyce! They hadn't even thought of her. And now Spike probably lived inside her body.  
   
"Hey guys," Joyce, said, shouldering the other woman side without a thought. "I'm back! Who's who?"  
   
She let out a peal of laughter when she saw Harmony. "Jeez! Am I glad I didn’t end up in here! You still in there, Xan?" she said, peering in to Harmony's eyes.  
   
"No, it's me, Rupert Giles. Buffy?" he added hopefully,  
   
"None other. This is so depressing. Did you know Mom's hips are twice as wide as mine? I keep bumping into things. And her feet hurt. It really sucks to grow old, guys, I can tell you that."  
   
"Joyce certainly isn’t old," Giles defended her. "A very attractive woman."  
   
"Don't you think you and me are gonna do funny business on top of police-cars," Buffy warned him. She mimicked "big hips" to Willow. "Is that you, Will? The toe twirling will betray you anywhere."  
   
Willow hastily stilled her nervous legs.  
   
The tall woman had followed all this with a bored lift of her eyebrow. With a sigh, she sauntered over to the ladder and sat down. "Expect you've done bugger all since the shift, have you? Just been standing around yapping and bonding, just like this morning. When is our little witch here gonna twitch her magic tail and get us a lead? Me and Buffy the Middle-aged Slayer will kick his ass, if you point us in the right direction."  
   
"We're still missing Riley," Buffy pointed out, ignoring Spike's comment.  
   
Harmony stood up straighter. "This once, Spike's right. We need to move. Willow and Tara, can you set up some sort of locator spell for us? Ethan must have left a trace."  
   
"What!" Buffy exclaimed. "Him again? He still owes me big for having that tattoo removed! Besides, he's supposed to be locked up in some military jail."  
   
"Yeah," Xander chimed in, who'd been nervously following Spike's movements, and now was standing as far away from him as possible. "Where is Soldier Boy when we need him?"  
   
Willow pulled Tara along by her hand. "Come on sweetie, we're gonna set up a spell in the storage room. It's a little full here, we need to concentrate."  
   
"Oi!" Spike called after them "Need another bird to help with the concentrating?"  
   
"No way!" Tara called back with a wide smile and they disappeared down the stairs.


	4. Chapter 4

The faint murmurs and giggles coming from the stock room made Spike crazy. Also, he'd never imagined the Scoobies did so much sitting around reading and yawning. He wanted very much to pace to expend some nervous energy, but the Slayer had usurped the pacing, stomping up and down the shop like a maniac on crack. She was agonizing over the fate of her Mum and her stodgy squeeze, and it made him just about ready to kill.  
   
"Will you bloody stop doing that, Slayer?" he complained. "You're driving me insane and you'll wear out that body if you go on like that."  
   
The Slayer stopped guiltily. "I wish they'd hurry," she said, settling herself nearby, apparently ready for a comfortable chat.  
   
Why couldn't she just talk to her buddies? The Scoobies, all of them, just kept forgetting he was a dangerous vampire. They acted as if he was a pal of theirs, just because they couldn't see his normal self. Odd, very odd. He sighed deeply, and eyed the resultant heaving of his considerable breasts with interest. Why was he hanging around the blasted Slayer anyway? He could be off and make good use of this wonderful body. He'd already tried out a little something on the toilet, earlier, and instead of satisfying him, it had given him an appetite for more. Women were wonderful in that respect.  
   
Decision made, he took off for the door.  
   
"Hey!" the Slayer said sharply. "Where do you think you're going?'  
   
"Out," he answered succinctly, and continued past Giles and Xander on his gorgeous long legs to the door. The heels were a challenge, but he fancied he was doing pretty well. He felt the guys' eyes on his legs, and tried to give his hips an extra swing.  
   
On the sidewalk outside, he took a deep breath and looked around, happy to be out of the stuffy shop and to be breathing in the fresh night air. It was odd, but breathing came absolutely naturally. He heard someone come out after him, and it was incredibly annoying to have to turn his head to find out who it was instead of simply knowing by the scent and the rhythms of the body. The Slayer.  
   
She crossed her arms and said, "I'm coming, too. I can’t have you running around loose in my town without a chip."  
   
He looked at her incredulously. "You think I'm gonna spend my time in this body killing people? How? Not to mention, what for? Can't eat them, can I?"  
   
Buffy looked a little less certain. "But you still want to, don’t you?"  
   
Spike tried to find the answer to that in himself. "Actually, not at the moment, no. Still evil though," he added hastily.  
   
"Of course."  
   
"It's just no fun when you can’t scent your prey, or can't drink their blood, you know? Never was one for ending the world and such."  
   
"So, we could patrol together?" Buffy offered.  
   
Spike stepped back, hands held up in mock horror. "Oh please, Slayer, I may not be up for killing myself, but I'm not going to be that much of a killjoy! Besides, have some pity on your poor Mum's body! You gonna pit that against a demon? Who you can’t kill because he's really your friendly neighbor?"  
   
"I'm bored, I need to hunt!" she protested.  
   
"Yeah, me too," he said, but refused to be blackmailed into sharing her misery.  
   
He started to walk off, leaving a pouting Slayer behind. He called out to her over his shoulder, "Just gonna have me a drink and some fun!"  
   
Once he was rid of her, things started out pretty disappointing. There were more people milling about on the streets than there had been in the morning, but they all looked glum, feeling lost and miserable he presumed. Humans were so limited. Just about anything could be seen as a chance for fun and games, if only one wanted to. Look at him! A day and a night, or more, to spend in a human body? What an amazing opportunity! Try out female sexuality; what bloke wouldn't like that for a spell? He decided to try out Willy's, he bet demons wouldn't be so annoyingly depressed about all this.  
   
As he'd expected, Willy had a full house. A motley group of demon and people, or anyway that's what they looked like on the surface, were having grand old time. The air reeked of booze and demonic pheromones, and he could see in Willy's backroom that the kitten poker game, on-going since 1972, had stopped, and that Willy was renting it out by the quarter-hour. Well, maybe he could even make a few bucks! Just humans, though. He remembered the two times that he had been sucked by a vampire, while being human, with mixed feelings; he'd been lucky not to have been vamped for the second time by that bloody bint Harmony.  
   
He stuck out his tits and bum as he'd seen women do and made his way to the bar. As he had expected, his presence was eagerly welcomed by the other customers.  
   
"Who's in there?" a gruff Fyarl behind the bar asked.  
   
"Wouldn't you like to know?" he answered curtly. "Willy, I presume? JD, please, and leave the bottle. Pack o' smokes, as well."  
   
"Oh, it's you, Spike," the demon grunted. "Lucky boy! Gonna get some nookie, ain't ya?"  
   
"'Course," Spike answered. "No point wasting an opportunity, is there?"  
   
Sure enough, a handsome young fellow sidled up to Spike and gave him a winning smile.  
   
"I say," he said to Spike, "what a delightful body you are sporting! Have you tried out its many possibilities yet?"  
   
Older geezer in there, Spike judged. Not necessarily a bad thing.  
   
He winked at the young man and leant on the bar to give him a better view of his cleavage.  
   
"Ready and willing for some fun and games," he said, and knocked back his first glass of bourbon. It hit him in unexpected places, and after the coughing had subsided he assessed the effect with misgiving. Damn tart had just about zero tolerance for alcohol. Through teary, blinking eyes, he saw a masculine hand pour in another shot.  
   
"Come on, love," the man purred. "Let's go to place where we can chat in comfort…"  
   
Yeah. This was going as planned, wasn't it? Already he had a little trouble managing the heels. He felt his upper arm being gripped and was propelled to the backroom, which was just being vacated by Xander's reeling body and a grinning white-haired vamp. Shit. That was him! His body! He tried to go after it, but the man pushed him inside and shut the door. Willy had shoved the table aside and thrown a couple of blankets on the floor for the comfort of his guests.  
   
Spike was so off-balance that he let himself be posited on the floor, and was halfway undressed before he knew what was happening. The man pawed at his breasts a little, and then got out his dick and started pushing around more or less in the region of his pussy. What the hell? This was either a twelve-year-old boy or a very, very old man, from even before 'Love without fear'!  
   
"Hey, you git!" he protested. "Never hear of foreplay? Give us a nice bit of suck or fingers first, eh?"  
   
"Oh, yes, sorry about that, jolly good idea," the man mumbled and went to work with his hand. Spike sighed and went on to give some detailed instructions.  
   
"No, you idiot. Women don't have a prostate! They have a clit, yes there it is! Gay bloke, I suppose? Just my luck. Now, put it in, and hurry up a bit, I want to find someone who'd done this a bit more often, if you get my drift?"  
   
It was over quickly, thank god. Spike brought himself off while the man lay panting beside him. He got up and smoothed his clothes. He'd better be a little more picky with his next victim. What he really wanted was someone who was a vamp in real life, he supposed. Humans with their inhibitions or sheer lack of skill…didn't want to try that out a second time. Harris had floundered a bit in Harmony's body, but he'd been willing and obedient at least. Hm. Now, the girl who'd inhabited the Slayer - that had been a little wildcat.  
   
He poked the supine man with the sharp toes of his shoes. "Hey, we're done. I need you out of here; I've got plans for tonight."  
   
That got him a glare. The guy did up his pants, and for good measure gave Spike an angry shove when he left the room. Spike saw it, thought he blocked, but ended up against the wall, wrenching his ankle painfully, and to his dismay felt tears spring into his eyes. What the hell! It bloody well hurt, and he apparently had no physical strength to speak of. Having tits and a cunt was all very nice, but being so damned weak was no fun. The commotion in the bar seemed different suddenly. If any of these gits, let alone all of them, decided to take him on there was nothing he could do about it. It was very humbling and off-putting.  
   
Spike squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. Nothing was more dangerous than showing fear. He had to get in there with the exact same attitude as before or he was toast. His bottle of JD was still standing on the bar-top. Good old Willy! He was thinking ahead, of who'd be his customers again after this body swap thing blew over.  
   
He was making his way to the bar with every appearance of calm, ready to grip his bottle and clear out as fast as he safely could, when his upper arm was firmly grasped. He turned, alarmed, and had to look up to the magnificent specimen standing there smiling at him.  
   
"No thanks, love," he said. "I've got syphilis, and it’s bloody well catching."  
   
He tried to wrench loose, but the smiling giant was too strong for him.  
   
"I've got a proposition for you, sweetheart," the man said. "My friend here is a bit more partial to women than I'd like, and he wants you to join us."  
   
Spike looked in the way the man indicated and saw Riley's body standing there smirking. What was it with these Scoobies that he kept bumping into them or their bodies? Sunnydale wasn't that small, the switching simply couldn't be random. The English warlock must be doing the switches for a purpose.  
   
He was hustled back to the poker room again, protesting loudly, but nobody was paying attention, and try as he might he couldn’t get free of the iron grip.  
   
"It’s not fair," he complained. "I'm a free woman; you have no right to force me to have sex with you." How on earth did real women ever get through a single night on the town without being molested?  
   
"Shut it, love," the big man said. He motioned to the Riley-body, who started getting Spike's clothes off.  
   
"Oi!" Spike said, when the Riley was a bit rough. He discovered that his fragile body didn’t particularly like it rough. "Be gentle with me!" The Riley ignored him.  
   
The tall man had gotten rid of his own clothes quickly and efficiently and left them in a heap on a rickety wooden poker chair. Spike thought of past kitten poker games with a pang and dearly hoped he was going to make it to the future ones. What would happen if he died in this body? Would he return in his own when the spell was ended?  
   
A movement by the big man attracted his attention. Stark naked and all, he was assembling some kind of concoction out of little bags and sachets in a bowl. Magic, Spike knew by the smell. No smell quite like rotted powdered newt. Uh-oh. Not just rape, but magic rape. Powerful black magic energy could be raised by such a ritual. Now, who would be practicing that kind of magic in the midst of this confusion? Could only be one man. Great, he'd found his warlock whatsisname, but there was bugger all he could do about it. Damn this weak body. On the other hand, what were wits for but using to them to either create maximum chaos or get out of a predicament? The wits felt sluggish and refused to be prodded into action.  
   
The magician strewed some of the greenish powder in a circle around the bodies of Riley and Spike. He closed the circle and muttered a few words. Spike felt a pleasant tingle and observed the world with different eyes. That Riley was actually a damn fine looking fellow, sturdy, muscled and clean. What more could a woman want? The Riley seemed the same way inclined towards him, and they were happily getting engaged in the pursuit of mutual pleasure when the magician started a new chant. Spike half-listened to the monotonous drone, his attention mostly concentrated on the male body next to him.  
   
"…Janus, Lord of Chaos, grant us this boon…I commend these two human souls into your care…"  
   
Spike pricked his ears. Human soul? He'd long since lost that! The magic circle probably wasn’t even binding him. He could hit himself, he'd let himself be lulled into believing all this crap because of drunkenness and fatalism. Gently he laid his hand on the Riley's neck and exerted the softest of pressures on the artery, increasing it slowly while murmuring sweet sexy nothings into the man's ear. He man shuddered once and slumped. It would have been easy to kill him, but Spike wasn't going to risk braving the slayer's wrath on this point. He held the pose with the unconscious man until he saw the magician turn away for more magic supplies. Then he jumped, grateful to be barefoot, and managed to hang his whole weight around the thick neck. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to win in a real fight, so he hung on for dear life and waited until lack of air made the big man slump to the floor. He grabbed a full bottle and added a hefty thwack to the head for good measure.  
   
He dressed, wrestling with the bra, and finally gave up on it. If that git Harris ever found out he couldn’t do up a bra from this angle either…. Now. How to get the damn fellow up to the Magic Box?  
   
Spike went into the bar and asked Willy to call him a cab.  
   
"For Chris' sakes, Spike! What do you think I'm running here? A human bar? No cabbie is ever gonna risk coming here, okay? Besides I don't think anyone is working today."  
   
He borrowed Willy's phone and called the Magic Box.  
   
"Yeah, it's me. Get a cab to Willy's place, I've got the bastard."  
   
"Who' are you?" Joyce voice asked suspiciously.  
   
"It’s me, Spike! Who else! I found him. Get a car over here and we can question him."  
   
"Who did you say you found?"  
   
"That bloke! That English bloke! The magician, the chaos guy!"  
   
"Giles! Spike's got Ethan!" he heard Buffy yell excitedly.  
   
He heard a girl's voice say something unintelligible.  
   
"Giles says we won’t be able to get a cab!"  
   
Spike growled in frustration. He threw a nervous look back to the poker room. "Well, get a move on anyway! He's not gonna stay unconscious forever. Hotwire a car, I'm sure one of you knows how to do that!"  
   
He slammed the phone down and stalked back to the room. Fortunately the two men were still out. He checked their vital signs, a tad nervous he might have hit or pressed too hard. He heard hearts beat. That should be alright.  
   
Spike positioned himself in the doorway. He lit a fag, and managed to discourage prospective takers of the entertainment room by dint of exuding as much menace as he could. His scowl must have been impressive, as several people hastily scurried off when he directed it at them. Mind over body, he though contemptuously. Wankers.  
   
Finally, Harmony and Joyce, or rather Giles and Buffy marched in.  
   
"About time," Spike groused. "He's in there, the big one. You take them, Harm."  
   
Giles bristled. "I'm not taking any lip from a chipped vampire."  
   
"Shut up, Giles, Buffy said, "You're the strongest, you’re not suggesting we let Joyce carry the big lug around, are you?"  
   
Giles complied, and the three of them wrestled the unconscious bodies into the car, but not after Buffy had wasted some time squealing and fussing over Riley. Giles refused to explain how he'd managed to obtain the car. Spike dropped a heavy wink to Buffy, but she ignored it. Uppity little thing. As if Watcher Boy hadn't formerly been a little more naughty than he'd like to own up to right now he'd eat his hat. Bra. Whatever.


	5. Chapter 5

Willow sat chewing her nails while she nervously kept checking the door. Buffy and Giles had gone to pick up Spike, who had called in from Willy's Bar claiming to have caught Ethan. It was going to be up to her provide the magic to find out if he really was Ethan, and to undo the spell. It was totally scary to have everyone rely on you, although on the other hand she kind of liked it, too. But would she be able to do magic in this Giles body?  
   
She got up and walked to the shop door to peer out. In the distance she heard a car approaching. Tires were screeching and horns were honking, and she guessed it must be the car she was waiting for, with Spike at the wheel. He drove better than Buffy anyway, and Giles couldn’t be trusted in his Harmony body, or so he had decreed himself. She remained standing in the shop door, holding it open so they could transport their prisoners inside.  
   
The mind boggled at the sight she beheld in the yellowy light of the street lamps. Three women, one very young, one a little older and a middle-aged one, lugging the big body of two unconscious men inside. Actually, the youngest and slenderest did the most work, while the big-boobed one delivered acrid comments and the middle-aged one made ineffectual tries to carry more than her share, as if she didn’t know her own strength.  
   
"Shut up, Spike!" Buffy hissed in Joyce's voice and elbowed him sharply in his side.  
   
"Ow! That really hurts, Slayer! Thank you for giving this woman a serious internal injury!"  
   
Buffy looked guilty for a moment, but seemed to shake it off. After all, it was Spike saying this. "Come on! This is Mom's elbow, not mine."  
   
Spike huffed and walked inside on his bare feet, pretending to be deeply hurt.  
   
"Hey!" Buffy said. "Where are her shoes? Did you leave them at Willy's?"  
   
Spike looked down. "Yeah. Bloody uncomfortable things, they were. Her feet'll thank me."  
   
"No, they won't, you moron. They were Pradas!"  
   
Spike and Giles shared a look of mutual lack of understanding.  
   
Willow looked on silently. It was fascinating to see the dynamics playing out. Spike a little less brash then usual, Giles defensive and uncomfortable, Buffy not the muscle for once. In spite of Giles irritability, he seemed to be coping better than Buffy. Buffy kept bumping into things and misjudging her own strength, as if she couldn't get used to the new body's dimensions and limitations. And Spike seemed to stay just Spike, whatever body he inhabited. Funny.  
   
With Willow's help, they lugged Ethan's big body inside, into the magic circle she and Tara had prepared while the others were out retrieving him. The Riley body was propped up in a chair. Buffy personally supervised his tying up, concerned that they were cutting off his circulation. Willow wondered at how many Scooby bodies had turned up in their vicinity. Ethan must have been paying special care to discomfort them as much as possible. Was this whole thing an elaborate revenge or did he have other motives?  
   
"How did you know this was Ethan, Spike?" she asked.  
   
"I was at Willy's for a drink and a chat with my mates, and he tried to capture me, didn’t he? Wanted to use me for his black magic ritual," Spike said.  
   
Willow's nose crinkled involuntarily. "You were lucky, I guess. It needs a lot of power to do a spell like this, involving thousands of people. He was going to kill you?"  
   
Spike looked askance at her. "Actually I think he was going to have me raped first, and then kill me. Generates a lot of power, too."  
   
Willow put a hand on his arm. "Ew, Spike, you are so lucky to be out of that. Poor thing!"  
   
Spike sighed and leaned into her. "It was very traumatic. I think I'll need lots of therapy."  
   
Willow was torn, feeling acutely uncomfortable with Spike's head on her shoulder, but unable not to provide a fellow female with support and sympathy.  
   
She was rescued by Buffy, who showed no such concern. "Get off her, Spike. Don't play the victim, nobody believes you anyway."  
   
"Oi! I am a victim! I'm bloody vulnerable in this body, just like you are."  
   
"Huh." Buffy wasn't impressed.  
   
Willow's mind returned to the spell Ethan had been going to use. "Spike, do you think your body is a virgin? That would be even bigger power source."  
   
Spike opened his eyes exaggeratedly and spread his arms wide. "Look at it. Could a gorgeous looking bird like this be a virgin? Hardly. Not that I'd know for certain, of course."  
   
Tara called out to Willow, distracting her from Spike-as-a-virgin thoughts. They finished the power circle around the unconscious body of who they hoped was the villain of this whole damn thing and stood back. Giles and Buffy came to gawp and comment.  
   
"Is a circle of powdered herbs and some chanting really gonna hold Ethan?" Buffy wondered.  
   
Giles pinched the bridge of his nose. "We certainly hope so, Buffy. Now we'll just have to wait until he wakes up."  
   
"Can't we just kick him or something, or force him to wake up with a spell?" Buffy said.  
   
Willow jumped up, her mind immediately flashing to a certain spell she'd read recently, but Tara's voice halted her.  
   
"We can't treat this body roughly! It belongs to someone else, who's completely innocent of whatever crimes this warlock's done," Tara protested.  
   
"Yes, of course," Giles muttered. "We'll have to wait then."  
   
"Oh, bloody hell!" Spike exclaimed. "Has your world never been the slightest bit grey before? I'll save you Mother Teresas the trouble, since I'm evil anyway."  
   
He stalked over to the unconscious man and slapped and shook him roughly. He moaned and stirred faintly. Spike stepped out of the circle  
   
"Well?" he demanded. "Get on with the magic already.”  
   
Wasn't plucking the fruits of evil deeds just as evil as doing them yourself? Willow wondered, but Tara took her hand and started the spell they needed to chant. She gathered her scattered wits and joined in on the fifth word. A spider's web of vague, glimmering strands started to form in the air, taking on more shine and substance as they chanted on. At the second repetition, Harmony's voice joined in on the chant and the strength of the fire tripled with a jolt. Giles again proved he was a far more competent sorcerer than he was willing to let on. Willow vowed to call him on that if they got out of this whole heap of trouble.  
   
Ethan's loaned body stirred again and opened its eyes. He remained perfectly motionless for a moment, staring at the fiery web that floated above and around him.  
   
"Oh, bugger," he said.  
   
He sat up with a groan, having to hunker down a little to prevent his head bumping against the magic constraints. He swiveled his head to take in the people standing around the circle.  
   
He sighed. "Oh Ripper, do you always have to be the one to ruin my fun?"  
   
"What do you expect, you prat, if you insist on showing up in my town?" Giles replied caustically and crossed his arms before his breasts.  
   
Ethan Rayne winked at him. "Well, yeah. Taking risks can be quite enjoyable, can't it?"  
   
"Last time I saw you, you were begin manhandled in a highly satisfactory manner by a bunch of Government soldiers. How did you escape?"  
   
Ethan looked sly. "Wouldn't you like to know?"  
   
Willow didn’t need to wait for Giles' signal. With a nod to Tara, they gestured together and slapped on the truth spell.  
   
Ethan was saying, "…living it up in Manila, where the boys are pretty and cheap…" when it hit, and he doubled over in pain. "Ow! Bloody hell! I'm still there, you clueless idiots! Why else would I be using other people's bodies!"  
   
He smiled a broad, pained, but triumphant shark-like smile, which actually made him look like Ethan really did.  
   
"Of course!" Giles mumbled excitedly. "You needed magic to escape imprisonment! But why mix up all of Sunnydale? Doesn’t that cost a lot of extra mojo?"  
   
"That's in tribute to the God of Chaos. He thrives on the confusion and mayhem that reign in Sunnydale right now," Ethan whispered hoarsely, still trying to fight the truth spell. "Isn't a truth spell of this magnitude a bit overkill? This is needless cruelty to a fellow countryman. It's just a bit of harmless chaos and fun, no need to clamp down quite so heavily."  
   
"You'd better get us back, you poophead!" Willow said angrily. "Giles nearly ate Tara here! Did you want people to have murder on their conscience?"  
   
"Yeah?"  
   
Spike chuckled. "Sensing a kindred spirit here, mate. But you might as well give up. Nothing can withstand the relentless pursuit of dreary rules and regulations by the Slayer and her Watcher. Believe me, I've tried."  
   
"Ain't her Watcher anymore, is he?" Ethan said gleefully. "Told me he got fired, the tosser."  
   
He was effectively silenced by Harmony's little shiny boot to his temple. She looked almost scary in game face.  
   
"Giles! " Willow said, shocked. "Don't kill him; we want our bodies back first!"  
   
"Killing is wrong," Spike intoned virtuously. "Except when the holy Scoobies themselves are threatened, of course."  
   
"Shut up, Spike!" Buffy said and placed Joyce's sensible pumps firmly on Spike's unprotected toes. "Giles, could we send Spike to rot away for eternity in Ethan's body?"  
   
Visibly struggling, Giles managed to return to Harmony's human face. "We probably could, Buffy, but much as I loathe the little pest, I hate Ethan Rayne even more. So, no."  
   
"Yes, do badmouth your allies, see how happy they will be to help you in the future! Without me, you wouldn't have captured this bastard!" Spike protested.  
   
Buffy threateningly lifted her foot again and Spike sensibly retreated from the line of fire.  
   
As Ethan was unable to provide more answers for the moment, the Scoobies sat themselves around the big table and brainstormed.  
   
"Let's recapitulate," Giles said, frowning heavily and playing with his hair. "One, we need an enormous amount of power to switch all the citizens of Sunnydale back to their own bodies. Two, we need to force Ethan to cooperate, as we don’t know the spell ourselves. Suggestions?"  
   
"If Riley was here, he could phone the base to have them torture Ethan's body or something," Xander mused.  
   
Willow sat straight up. "Yeah! Buffy, where is Riley? We've seen his body around, but not himself!"  
   
Buffy shrugged helplessly. "I wish I knew. If it was any use I'd go looking for him!"  
   
Willow waved her hands. "I didn’t mean to imply you’re a bad girlfriend, Buffy. I just sort of wondered, since we've seen everybody else."  
   
"Where's Anya?" interjected Xander. "She was here this morning!" A worried tone entered his voice.  
   
"She'll be alright, Xander," Willow said sweetly. "As a former demon, Anya will fell right at home in this kind of situation."  
   
Xander sighed and ran a hand over his balding head.   
   
"Well, I really hope Mom's okay," Buffy chimed in. "I think she knows I'd be here."  
   
Giles sighed. "Joyce is a very sensible woman, Buffy, and I'm sure she's laying low and relying on us to save the day. Same for Anya and Riley; they know the score and would come here if they could. Probably Ethan deliberately kept Riley away for precisely the reason Xander mentioned. He could have done it to all of us, easily. Make us vamps in daytime, or put us in a bedridden or infant body. That he didn’t means he wanted us to experience fully all the trouble he caused. Hubris will defeat a villain every single time," he added pedantically.  
   
"Last time he would have gotten away without Spike's help, wouldn’t he?" Tara asked.  
   
"Hrm, yes," Giles mumbled. "Stay focused, people."  
   
Willow squeezed Tara's hand encouragingly when she hung her head at this.  
   
"About the power Ethan was gonna use: you really think raping Spike was gonna do it?" Xander said, an eew ready on his lips.  
   
Giles turned his head to Spike on the ladder. "D'you think he knew you were in there, Spike?"  
   
Spike shrugged. "Couldn’t say. Didn’t let on if he did."  
   
"I don’t think he could have known you helped me when I was a Fyarl demon. He would be unaware of your existence. So I think raping any woman would have done the trick," Giles said. "Obviously, we’ll have to find another way of raising that much power."  
   
"Willow is a very powerful witch," Tara said proudly.  
   
Willow looked a little doubtful. "I'm happy you think I can, sweetie, but switching bodies for 30,000 people? That's way bigger than anything I've ever tried before…"  
   
"We'll have to try," Giles said resolutely. "Harmony here is getting a tad peckish. I'll keep Ethan in check with my vampire strength."  
   
He looked up in irritation when a snort sounded form the direction of the ladder. "Spike? Anything constructive to add for a change?"  
   
Spike shook his head and held up his hands. Willow didn't like the smile that played on his lips but didn't pursue it.  
   
"But Giles," Willow said thoughtfully, "if the spell works, we'll all be flung back into our bodies, including Ethan. It'll take time getting back here, especially Riley, and we need him he to tell the military about this somehow."  
   
"If we swapped everyone back except Ethan?" Xander suggested.  
   
"No!" Tara said. "We don’t know what would happen to the spirit of the person who owns the body!"  
   
"Okay, how about Harmony? No big loss there!"  
   
Willow checked out Spike, but he was inspecting his chipped red nails critically, unmoved by the suggestion.  
   
"Spike?" Xander said, "Spike? You know, Harmony, who was your girlfriend?"  
   
"'Was' being the operative word here, mate," Spike said calmly.  
   
"Could we, Giles?" Buffy asked. "She doesn’t have a soul anymore, does she?"  
   
Giles scratched his head. "It's a good question, Buffy, and it pains me to admit that I'm in the dark as to the answer. She doesn’t have her soul anymore, and we'd stake her if we found her biting people, but to fling her not-soul or spirit or whatever into some kind of limbo – it just doesn’t feel right."  
   
"We could try to bind his mind instead of his body," Tara suggested practically.  
   
Giles looked up hopefully. "Could you do that, Willow? You and Tara?"  
   
They arranged themselves in and around the circle. Tara, Willow, Buffy and Xander holding hands on the outside, Harmony sitting on Ethan's loaner body on the inside of the circle.  
   
Willow and Tara started chanting. Willow found it hard to concentrate, a part of her attention claimed by the soft swish of Spike's barefoot pacing. Every minute or so he would come within her range of vision, a set look to his face and hands rhythmically clenching and unclenching. "He's up to something," she thought. "I really have to concentrate."  
   
The binding spell was relatively simple. Xander offered his tie, and she herself donated Giles' belt to truss up the awakened and glaring Ethan. Tara explained that tying him up in reality made it easier for the spell to take hold. If Willow closed her eyes, she could see the ghostly white binding energy shimmering around and through Ethan's body.  
   
Then the real work began. At last, after the thirteenth or so repetition of their convocation a sense of magic began to build up. Willow had decided on the simplest possible form of request; she'd ask for things restored as they had been two days ago. There would be no point in going into specific restorations or other requests, since there were simply too many to keep track of. She and Tara continued to chant, with Xander and Buffy providing emotional if not magic support, and she started to feel a pressing sensation in her skull, as if something was in the process of squeezing her brains through a very small hole. It made her a little dizzy and short of breath, and she tried not to fight it, but go with it, follow the sensation to its source. She visualized it as a big steaming cauldron, in which thousands of colored swirls were chasing each other in a maddened dance, twirling and twisting, choosing and rejecting. Finally, she saw, or half saw/smelled a particular color/scent in an elusive wisp of smoke and followed it. It turned; there was a sense of mutual recognition and they merged.


	6. Chapter 6

Willow's spell hit Spike like a blunt object to the sternum. He stumbled forward in agony, blinded for a moment, and when he looked up again he was standing in the midst of a throng of people milling around. The sky arched over them like a giant upended draining bowl with little pinpricks of light shining through.  
   
He tried to get his bearings, but he could see nothing but confused crowds continuing on until the horizon disappeared into a blue haze. He realized this must be some kind of side effect of the body-swap spell and he knew somehow that he had to hurry up and find his own body. He started searching, scanning the crowd with his far-sighted eyes, cursing his lack of height. Suddenly he became aware of a sensation prickling the back of his neck, someone looking at him. He turned around quickly, trying to catch the guilty party. He looked straight into the eyes of his long forgotten mirror image, priggish little glasses and unfortunate curls included.  
   
The nasty little bugger was coming right at him, as if he was eager to see him! And what was worse, he could feel in himself an answering pull. Spike threw up his hands in irritation and backed away, shaking his head. There seemed to be no stopping the fellow though, and Spike, overwhelmed by disgust and inexplicable fear turned around and dove into the milling crowds.  
   
After bumping into and cursing roundly at several dozens of confused citizens he slowed and checked if he was still being followed. Both the pulling sensation and the fear had nearly disappeared, and indeed, Silly Willy was nowhere in sight. Right. Safe for now. Who the hell had that been? His ghost, or his soul? No way was he going to be reunited with that little ponce ever again. He was just dandy as he was, thank you, except for that little matter of the chip, of course. Still, he was a little curious. He really wanted to take a peek at his former self, but without being observed in his turn.  
   
He coerced a big strapping fellow into holding out his cupped hands to him and he climbed upon the man's shoulders. Sure enough, there were the brown curls and the fawn suit. William the Ghost was doing something odd and personal with a small blond-haired woman, looked a little like the slayer, only with a much sweeter and softer air. There were holding each other's hands and staring intently at each other. God, if he looked at women like that, no wonder he'd never gotten lucky. Idiot.  
   
Inexplicably annoyed at the sight, Spike jumped down and rough-shouldered his way through the crowd again. He saw some very odd sights. Someone who looked like Willow, but seemed to be a vampire, dressed in dominatrix black and leather. Another Willow, black-haired and black-eyed and her face veined like the back of an old man's hand. Xander with an eye-patch. A brown-haired girl who shrieked his name when she saw him and who was almost as hard to shake off as his former self had been.  
   
The horizon came no closer, and Spike stopped for a moment to think. Immediately he felt a strong pulling sensation again, only this one was much more compelling and attractive than before. He tried to find it by raking his gaze over the assembled people, and caught just a glimpse of himself, bleached hair, black duster and all, running at him full tilt before they touched and merged with a feeling of sharp relief like a sneeze.  
   
The sweetest, hottest, most wonderful taste in the world flooded his tongue and for one moment, he thought he was in heaven, but then excruciating pain slammed him and he heard someone roaring and mewling.  
   
Spike came to from a lesser pain in his fingertips, where he'd apparently been trying to dig through a cement sewer wall. Christ. The chip pain hadn’t been this bad in ages, but then he knew better by now than to try and bite someone. Someone was making a very annoying noise close to his ear. Wearily he turned to confront his gibbering companion down here, a pasty-faced man who was trying to scrabble away from him with one hand, the other hand pressed to his bleeding neck.  
   
Spike tipped his head against the wall and flapped his hand. "Go away. You’re back in your own body and I won't bite, appearances to the contrary. Now scoot before I lose my temper."  
   
Bugger. What a way to wake up. A taste of heaven and then slam, bang, back into the awful blah-ness of chipped life. Taunting a fellow with what he couldn’t have, downright cruel it was. Spike heaved a sigh and checked the body for damage. Apart from a suspicious stain on the front of his jeans, he appeared undamaged, and was even feeling quite full and satisfied. The people who'd been using his body must have fed incredibly well. In fact, he had the suspicion they'd been feeding on humans, lucky buggers. He slammed his hand against the wall and gave a shout of frustration. He couldn't for the life of him think of a plausible explanation why the chip should function that way. Life was not fair.  
   
He could sense dawn was approaching and he'd better scarper from here if he wanted to get to the Magic Box in time. Wasn't it sad, that the most fun he could think of was indulging in a bit of emotional Scooby blackmail? He'd sunk so low, he was probably the single most pathetic vampire on this earth. Excepting Angel and Harmony of course, for completely different reasons.  
   
He entered the cellar through his secret tunnel and climbed up the stairs. A babble of excited voices greeted him.  
   
"I don't think this is fair, you know! It’s been a life-changing experience, and you just don’t seem to appreciate that. I mean, you don’t have to look at me that way! It's my nature. Of course I would try to eat him when I was sitting on top of him when I came to! If you hadn't tried to starve my body none of this would have happened!"  
   
For God's sake. Harmony, yammering on at the top of her voice to Giles, who was holding a stake to her chest.  
   
Giles was looking grim and amused at the same time. Why didn’t he just stake the damn bint, make her shut up? Harmony's company was only bearable if you silenced her up firmly, preferably by stuffing her mouth with something big and hard.  
   
Unexpectedly, Joyce Summers stepped up.  
   
"That isn't the way to deal with the poor child, Mr. Giles. Put that thing away." She walked up to Harmony and crossed her arms.  
   
"Harmony Kendall, that is no way to behave, young lady. I know your mother, and she'd be very disappointed to see you go like that!"  
   
Harmony gritted her teeth and wailed, "Mrs. Summers, you don’t seem to appreciate that I'm a vampire now. I'm evil. I'm supposed to behave that way!"  
   
Joyce shook her head. "There is no excuse for behavior like that. That’s not how you were raised."  
   
Spike stepped forward. "I think she had to raise herself, poor thing. Imagine, no one at her grave to teach her vampire etiquette… She's a self-made woman now."  
   
Harmony beamed a surprised and grateful smile at him. "Thank you, Spikey! I never knew you understood!"  
   
Spike rolled his eyes. "You must have been absent from class the day they were explaining sarcasm, pet. Now off you go to your lair. Don't bother the big angry Watcher anymore."  
   
Harmony stalked off, throwing a hurt look to Spike.  
   
Joyce looked at him with a frosty shine in her eye. "That was rude, Spike." Then her face softened. "Probably the only way to deal with the poor thing." She turned to Giles. "I really want to get back home now, Rupert. Thank you for looking after Buffy, and saving me from that young woman."  
   
She departed. Spike looked after her admiringly. She was a tough cookie, the Slayer's mum, and he appreciated her. Too old to eat, anyway.  
   
He spotted the man who'd been inhabited by Ethan, looking much the worse for wear. He was holding a bloody handkerchief to his neck. This was exactly what he'd envisaged when Giles offered to restrain Ethan with his vampire strength, and it gave him a great deal of satisfaction.  
   
The shop bell clanged and the other Scoobies started to dribble in. As soon as she entered the room, Willow descended on him like a tiny vulture and bore him off to the back of the shop, where Giles was just coming off the phone. Giles put it down and grabbed his arms.  
   
"Oi! I've been good! Now what? What!"  
   
"Shut up, Spike," Giles hissed. "Now, promise you will hold your gob shut about what you did in Riley's body, or I will stake you right now."  
   
Spike knew exactly what he was referring to, but protested loudly, "I didn’t do anything evil! What are you on about?"  
   
Willow elbowed him sharply in his side. "You had sex with Buffy's body, you evil, mean, vampire!"  
   
Spike stuck out his chin mulishly. "Everybody had weird stuff happen to them yesterday, what difference does it make? Wasn't her in there!"  
   
He wouldn't have bragged about that anyway! He must have been in a state, not to see right away it wasn't Buffy in that body. Only a big prat would have missed that, and he wasn't about to boast about something that stupid. He held off a bit longer, just for the fun of seeing the earnest threats on Giles' and Willow's faces, but then held up his hands and promised he wouldn't tell a soul about the Buffy - Riley thing. He'd never settle for just a woman's body if he loved her; so what did it matter what she did with it if someone else inhabited her? He failed to see their concern.  
   
They released him and he sauntered after them when they rejoined the group at the table. Spike leaned back in the chair and steepled his fingertips together. "What about you, Anya? Didn’t see you last night…"  
   
Anya crossed her arms tightly in front of her body. "None of your business. I had a very unpleasant experience, and nothing compels me to share it with you."  
   
Spike raised his eyebrows. "Whatever you like, love. Did you have a snuffly nose and a little tail?"  
   
Anya eyed him with hostility. "I still have some pretty good contacts in the vengeance business, Spike. I could just call a friend of mine and ask her for a favor!"  
   
"Oh please, Anya. As if my life could get any worse than it is right now," he said disdainfully.  
   
He turned to Xander, who'd been uncharacteristically silent during this exchange and winked at him. Xander bit his lip and turned away. Spike scooted closer to him and waggled his eyebrows. Very casually, he put his arm on the back of the chair and let his fingers trail against Xander's neck. He turned his head toward the boy, lowering his lashes slowly over his eyes and sculpting out his lips.  
   
"Xander-r?"  
   
Xander looked at him like a frightened deer and and tried to meld with the armrest.  
   
"How did it feel to be a vampire? Did you like the things a vampire feels? And what they do?"  
   
"I hated it," Xander stated agitatedly. "It's sick and unnatural."  
   
Xander looked up gratefully when Giles sat down at the table and put his fingertips together, a sure sign of impending exposition.  
   
Giles coughed and began. "I talked to Mr. Travers just now, and he has agreed to contact the commander of the base that is holding Ethan Rayne's body. The Council's going to help with restraining his mind and spirit as well as his body."  
   
Just then Riley came in, looking just like he always did except for the flesh-colored band-aid on his neck. He stared back at Spike with the usual hostility.  
   
"So, Spike," Riley said heavily. "I understand that you were in my body yesterday. Kill any people while you were at it?"  
   
"Boy Scout's honor," Spike said with a grin. "No casualties. Now that we're having a friendly chat and all, where exactly were you, while I was helping to fight the good fight?"  
   
Riley glowered at him. "I was trapped in the body of a demon the first time, and the second time I was a little baby, okay? I was completely unable to get over here."  
   
"Uh-huh." Spike settled in for a nice thorough needling. "What kind of demon? Most demons can get about in daylight without problems…"  
   
"I don’t know. A kind of tunnel dwelling species without arms and legs."  
   
Spike cackled with laughter. "Tunnel dwelling? You mean the sewage eating slime tribe that lives down there?"  
   
"I didn’t ask for its genealogy chart," Riley replied stiffly. "Possibly."  
   
Buffy turned impatiently to Riley. "Just ignore Spike. Did you manage to get in touch? What did the base commander say?"  
   
Riley sat up straighter and beamed proudly at Buffy. "They've agreed to liaise with the Council to arrange for magical restraints."  
   
Willow and Buffy nodded. "Good!"  
   
"He deserves to rot in there for eternity," Anya said darkly.  
   
"You know guys, I can’t help but feel a little bit sorry for this Ethan. I mean, the town was a mess, but it was mostly harmless fun on his part! " Xander said.  
   
Spike cast his eyes to heaven. "Harris, are you really this naïve or is it willful blindness? You think nobody was killed yesterday? I bet there were a lot of baddies about on the town, just dying to make use of this wonderful opportunity."  
   
"Yeah, Spike's right, Xander, how many sick people died because there were no doctors or nurses around, or traffic jams, or stuff like that? This wasn’t just fun. And think of the trauma of having to go through this!"  
   
"Exactly! If I wasn’t used to this kind of stuff now I'd so need counseling!" Buffy said, nodding vigorously. "I just saw Mom outside, and you know what she did? She just watched TV in bed all day, figuring that I'd be putting things to right. I call that sensible."  
   
"Well, I was happy to be in a position to reassure her when I returned in my own body," Giles said. "She took it remarkably well."  
   
Spike enjoyed the distrustful glance Buffy sent to her Watcher. There had to be story behind that, he assumed. He shrugged mentally. Not as if he wanted to find out.  
   
"Where was your body when you gat back in it, Buffy?" Willow asked curiously. She was idly playing with a pencil.  
   
Buffy lifted her shoulders. "Watching TV not two blocks away from Revello. Safe and sound. I don’t know what it was doing at the first switch, of course, but Willow told me you guys didn’t see me."  
   
She glanced around at their raised eyebrows. "I mean myself, the real me, my body. Not just that drooling old lady Willow told me about! You know what I mean!"  
   
Buffy began a set of stretching exercises, ending it with a sudden series of back flips that ended dangerously close to Giles's occult glassware. She beamed at the little group with a wide, satisfied smile.  
   
"Guys, I can't tell you how happy I am to be back in my own body. It was pretty lowering to realize that I'm totally of the useless without my slayer strength. I contributed zilch yesterday."  
   
"Oh, no, Buffy!" Willow protested. "You managed to get here while you were in that demented old lady. That was majorly impressive."  
   
"Thanks, Will," Buffy said. "But I think you and Tara, and Giles, were the ones who were really impressive. Your powers are of the mind, and you took them with you. Without you we'd have been nowhere with Ethan the Body Swapper."  
   
"Whereas I, Xander L. Harris, managed to be just as useful in my loaner bods as I always am, and that means about as useful as the human appendix."  
   
"Don’t put yourself down, honey," Anya said. "I wouldn't have minded having sex with while you were in the Harmony body. Too bad you wasted that opportunity."  
   
Xander scooted away from Riley with a loud screeching of chair legs on the floor. Riley looked at him with surprise. "What? My real body was never in contact with any sewer slime!"  
   
Xander got up and started to rummage in a big bag with towels and Doritos sticking out of it. '"Are we done? We need to get going to the beach if we're gonna make a day of it."  
   
"Dawn's hardly arrived yet," Giles countered, shaking his head. "Well, enjoy your little outing, I'm going to catch up on some sleep."  
   
The young people busied themselves making driving and picking up arrangements for their day at the beach. Spike looked on for a moment, and then, unnoticed by any of them, he went to the back of the shop to the sewer entrance there. He felt strangely disappointed. What had he been expecting? That the Scoobies would acknowledge his help? Never happen.  
   
Physical wellbeing warred with a feeling of being cheated. Bloody Ethan might have shipped him into another vampire body, mightn't he? Would have been a sight more fun. Now all he could look back on was not having killed the Slayer yet one more time, and shagging Harris. A bit low on the achievement scale, you might say. In spite of the dawn creeping up on him he walked slowly back to his lonely crypt and the uneventful rhythms of his life.  
   
END


End file.
